


I Am Enough

by Resmiranda



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, M/M, my heart bleeds for iwaoi, romantic if you wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5399330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resmiranda/pseuds/Resmiranda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Their volleyball team is terrible.”<br/>“Their men’s volleyball team has won the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship eight times in the last twenty years.”<br/>“Terrible,” Oikawa mournfully cries.<br/>A vein in Iwaizumi’s forehead pulses.</p><p>A.K.A. Iwaizumi and Oikawa have a fight, and Iwaizumi makes it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikooki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikooki/gifts).



> Original Prompt: can I have iwaoi where they're roommates and oikawa has a bunch of these Band-Aid stickies randomly but has never really used (http://pandera.tumblr.com/post/127524845115/travelquotes-these-cute-little-temporary) 
> 
> This one kind of maybe expanded past drabble territory... also not really roommates, but... I regret nothing.
> 
> P.S. check out [Nikooki's art](http://nikooki.tumblr.com/)!

“Iwa-chan, why are you going to _that_ school?”

Oikawa was pacing his room, twirling a volleyball in his hands.

Iwaizumi closes his eyes against the irritation that flares to life in his blood. They’d been over this too many times, and his patience was finally one string short of snapping.

“I _want_ to go there, Oikawa.” His voice was just shy of being a growl.

“But it sucks,” Oikawa whines in his most nasal, ear-grating pitch. “Their volleyball team is terrible.”

“Their men’s volleyball team has won the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship eight times in the last twenty years.”

“ _Terrible_ ,” Oikawa mournfully cries.

A vein in Iwaizumi’s forehead pulses.

“Why not Tokai, or Hosei, or _Nittaidai_?” Oikawa presses on, refusing to take the hint. “Why _Tsukuba_?” His face contorts like the name has a foul taste.

Iwaizumi boils over.

“My school is just as good as yours!” Iwaizumi roars, grabbing a fistful of Oikawa’s shirt and chucking him onto his bed.

The volleyball goes flying across the room, bouncing off the wall behind them and skittering away. Oikawa yelps and protests, but the maneuver had been executed carefully, and he’s not remotely phased by these displays of Iwa-chan’s strength anymore.

“But it’s so far!” Oikawa whines.

As soon as the words have left his mouth Oikawa knows he should not have spoken, but it’s too late.

They seem to be frozen in time.

Iwaizumi breaks first.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” His voice is soft, low, laced with danger. “You don’t want me to go to Tsukuba because it’s an hour away from Nittaidai.”

Oikawa gulps. It doesn’t escape his attention that Iwaizumi knows exactly how far away their universities are from each other. He looks away, cheeks feeling hot.

“So what if it is?” he admits petulantly.

A wordless bellow splits the air, and Oikawa lunges backwards, startled, as Iwa-chan whirls around and punches the pillow just next to him.

He spins to face his best friend again. The barrage Oikawa is expecting doesn’t come, however. He just stands there, muscles taut and fists clenched, huffing and shaking.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa squeaks. He is still sprawled on his back from his mad scramble away.

Iwaizumi flinches at the timidity, but doesn’t relax. His voice is still deafening in Oikawa’s small bedroom.

“You don’t get to be upset about that!”

A spark jumps to life in Oikawa and is quickly flamed into a rage. He matches Iwaizumi’s volume.

“Yes I do! I’m going to miss you!”

“I’ll miss you too, dumbass!”

The words are delivered with such painful honesty that the retort already building on Oikawa’s tongue immediately crumbles.

What is left tastes bitter.

“Really, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Of course, you idiot!” Iwa-chan is still yelling, but the sound is tight, like he’s being strangled.

Or holding back tears.

A tidal wave of feeling crashes over Oikawa’s head and his own eyes start to water.

“We’ve always been together,” he chokes out.

“I know!” And Oikawa can see it now, the moisture collecting at the corners of Iwa-chan’s eyes. “So stop making it _harder_.” His voice breaks on the last word.

There’s a prickling underneath Oikawa’s skin. He sits up slowly, scooting forward again until he is perched on the edge of his futon. If he stretches out his arm, he will be able to touch Iwa-chan. But he doesn’t. His blood is singing with apprehension as he builds the nerve to tell Iwaizumi what's at the heart of the matter.

When he does, it’s only a whisper.

“I’m afraid.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t move, and Oikawa cannot quite bring himself to look at him. To see if his declaration affected him.

“I’m afraid of what I’ll do without you there to yell at me.” A hysterical giggle escapes his throat.

It’s funny.

It hurts.

Because he’ll miss _this_.

Oikawa presses a fist to his mouth as the crushing agony of _loss_ finally pushes him under.

The rustle of the comforter seems inordinately loud in the room as Iwaizumi carefully sits down beside Oikawa. Iwaizumi doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, just offers quiet companionship as Oikawa cries.

Oikawa is helplessly scrubbing at his eyes for the millionth time when Iwaizumi finally fractures the silence.

“Wait here.”

Iwaizumi walks out of Oikawa’s room.

It’s not like Oikawa had plans to go anywhere, particularly not in this state, but the command irritates him. He’s pissed that Iwa-chan has the nerve to order him around after breaking him down.

He’s half tempted to walk out of his house just to spite him.

But he doesn’t.

He waits, though he does get up to find a tissue so he can blow his nose.

Iwaizumi finally comes back, clutching a fistful of what appear to be little scraps of paper and a ratty face towel. As Iwa-chan comes to kneel on the floor in front of him, however, Oikawa recognizes the bits of paper for what they are.

“Are those the bandage tattoos Takeru left with me after his birthday party?”

Takeru had said they were lame, but Oikawa actually suspects that he was too embarrassed to admit he couldn’t understand the English printed on them—especially because the words were backwards until applied. Oikawa thought they were awesome. He’d never used them, however, and had forgotten about them. Oikawa was completely flabbergasted that Iwa-chan _remembered_ them, let alone knew where to find them.

Iwaizumi carefully lays the temporary tattoos down on Oikawa’s comforter, and selects a blue one from the neat little stack he’s made.

“Give me your arm.”

Oikawa sniffles. “What are you doing, Iwa-chan?”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbles, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. Oikawa wants to tease him, but is curious enough to stay quiet, allowing Iwa-chan to manipulate his arm. Iwaizumi turns it with gentleness he rarely shows his best friend until Oikawa’s forearm is facing the ceiling. He tugs at him lightly, silently urging him closer. Oikawa scoots until their knees brush, and Iwaizumi rests the back of Oikawa’s hand on his own leg.

Iwaizumi takes the tattoo he’s been holding carefully between his fingers, and fidgets with the edge until he’s caught the protective plastic in his grip. He peels it back. His eyes rove over the skin of Oikawa’s arm. He studies the tattoo once more, lips moving soundlessly as he goes over the words one more time, making sure he has the right one and it’s facing the correct way. Iwaizumi then presses it firmly into Oikawa’s flesh, just above the crook of his elbow. Iwaizumi’s thumb moves over the paper slowly, digging in just a little. It feels good, like a massage.

Iwaizumi holds the tattoo paper to Oikawa’s arm with one hand and twists to reach for the wet towel. The splash of cold bites at his nerves after being soaked in Iwaizumi’s warmth, but he refrains from complaining. Everything feels too raw, this moment heavy with too much, for Oikawa to spoil it.

Iwaizumi waits measured seconds before removing the towel and giving the tattoo one more solid squeeze into Oikawa’s skin. He leans forward, moving his face close as he very cautiously peels the paper away, revealing the words for Oikawa to read, at last.

_You can do it!_

Oikawa reads it twice, just to make sure he didn’t misinterpret… and laughs.

He can’t help it.

The tightness in his chest unwinds and the air moves through his lungs with more ease. His heart still hurts. There is still a cloud hanging over their heads. But the thought of Iwa-chan saying something so forthright and earnest causes a warm bubbly feeling in his chest, and he cannot help but let it spill out.

Iwa-chan is smiling. It’s small, but it intensifies everything Oikawa is feeling—the warmth, the ache, the giddiness.

Iwaizumi picks up another tattoo.

Oikawa watches, mystified, as one after another, words that Iwaizumi would never say aloud appear down his arm.

_Breathe_

_Be Strong_

_Hold On_

Iwaizumi catches Oikawa off-guard when he moves Oikawa’s left arm off his lap and motions for his right one. Oikawa lets him take it.

He watches Iwa-chan this time.

Iwa-chan’s brow furrows in concentration every time he peels plastic off, or removes paper from Oikawa’s skin. His teeth dig into his bottom lip when he presses one to Oikawa’s arm. His eyelashes flutter whenever he glances back at the colorful assortment of ink bandages along Oikawa’s arms.

_Think Positive_

_It Will Pass_

_Love Yourself_

Oikawa’s eyes are starting to feel moist again. He stares at the spot on the wall where he used to hang his uniform. His breath hitches.

Iwa-chan nudges Oikawa’s knee with is own, startling him. He blinks his eyes quickly, pretending he wasn’t on the verge of another meltdown.

Oikawa is surprised to see that Iwaizumi still has one more tattoo. Oikawa tilts his head, wondering why Iwa-chan wanted his attention for this one. He surprises Oikawa once more when, instead of peeling back the plastic film and pressing it onto his skin, he presses it whole into Oikawa’s palm. He curls Oikawa’s fingers over it carefully, and then holds them firmly, as though he could make them stay like that if he just held them in place long enough.

Dark eyes peak up from darker eyelashes, capturing Oikawa’s attention just like an alien ship’s tractor beam.

His eyes are as steady as his name. They do not waver as he slowly releases Oikawa’s hand from his and stands up. He takes one step back. Then another. Oikawa cannot read the emotion in those dark depths, but Iwa-chan looks at him with enough intensity that a tense knot of… _something_ forms in Oikawa’s chest. It’s not entirely unpleasant.

It’s a lot like the feeling he had in their last game.

The feeling of waiting in a sea of collapsed chairs after a desperate toss to the one person he could always count on to be there.

The one person who would never fail him.

It was anticipation, hope, anxiety.

Trust.

Iwa-chan’s eyes burn into him. Oikawa opens his mouth to speak, but a single clipped shake of Iwa-chan’s head silences him. Iwaizumi disappears around the corner before Oikawa could blink.

He remains frozen long after he hears his front door shut.

Oikawa knows Iwaizumi is gone, but he can still feel him in the room. The weight of his gaze is still there. Iwa-chan’s warmth still envelops his hands.

Oikawa’s fingertips twitch. He looks down, watching his digits slowly unfurl. The feeling in his chest swells to critical mass, and his eyes slowly creep over to the small bit of paper, ink, and plastic in his palm.

It takes Oikawa a minute to read it, with the words being backwards, in another language, and all.

Then another, as the words sink in.

Like a drop of fire set to gasoline, warm emotion consumes him. He gasps, breath stolen by the intensity, the enormity, of it.

Oikawa feels his eyes grow hot and wet, but cannot even try to hinder it.

His chest heaves, struggling against some great pressure he can not name or shake.

Tears splash across the words he cradles in his hand. Oikawa immediately brushes them away, reading them over and over.

Oikawa tears his eyes away long enough to look at the messages applied, for all of Iwaizumi’s care, unevenly up and down his arms. Things Iwa-chan would never tell him out loud.

He looks at the last one. The one Iwa-chan had not put on his skin to wash away, but left with him.

Oikawa closes his eyes and thinks of how much Hajime cares for him and it _hurts_ , but he knows it will be okay.

Even if they were on different teams, at different schools, across the country, across worlds—it would be okay.

Because Hajime will always be there to remind him of the one thing he never seems to be able to remember on his own.

_I am enough._

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to find an extra typo of mine, please point it out to me!!
> 
> If you dare find me on tumblr: [ resmiranda13. ](http://resmiranda13.tumblr.com/)


End file.
